Page 43 of September’s Cowboy Travis

“He's hard to miss.”

“That's one way to put it.”

I set our plates on the table. “He's got Clydesdales. Makes him think he's fancy.”

“I don't think anyone who spent the afternoon loading livestock panels gets to be fancy.”

“Tell him that.”

We ate without running out of things to say. That still surprised me. Most of my previous relationships hadn't involved much quiet conversation. Drinks, dancing, sex, whatever happened afterward. Kaycee could spend ten minutes explaining exactly why one of her clients had made a terrible accounting decision and somehow make me want to hear the ending.

When we finished, she carried her plate to the sink and opened the cabinet under it without asking where anything went. Seeing her move around comfortably in my space only solidified my desire to have her here more.

I leaned against the counter while she washed her hands. “What are you working on next week?”

“A business dispute out of Helena. Most of it is document review, so I can work remotely.”

“From Bozeman?”

She dried her hands and turned toward me. “From anywhere.”

That was my opening. Beau’s words ran through my head. I almost let the moment pass. Since when did asking a woman to stick around take more nerve than throwing a steer in front of a grandstand full of people?

I rubbed my palm over the back of my neck. “I want you here more.”

She waited. Dammit, she was going to make me work for it.

“Not because you've got another audit,” I said. “Not because you need records or somebody to drive you around a pasture. I want you showing up because you want to be here.”

“I am here because I want to be.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I looked at her. She wasn't mad. She wasn't even pushing very hard. She was waiting for me to stop taking the easy way out.

“I keep expecting you to decide this was fun and go back to your real life.”

Kaycee rested her hip against the counter. “You know you're allowed to be part of my real life, right?”

“I’m getting there.”

“Then tell me what you want.”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable being put on the spot. What was I even bracing for? Her saying no, or her saying yes and meaning it? Either way, I needed to know.

“I want you, Kaycee. Here… in Bozeman… whatever the hell we can figure out.” I shoved my hands into my pockets so I wouldn't start messing with something that didn't need fixing. “I just don't want this to turn into something we do when you've got a free weekend.”

She watched me for a second. Then she smiled.

“What?”

“I rearranged next Thursday and Friday so I could work from here too.”

I stared at her. “You did?”

“I was going to tell you after dinner.”